Page 55 of Christmas at the Movies

Two Years Later

‘This is Goldie Johnson for Entertainment News reporting from the Plumdale Picture Palace where the world premiere of The Ghostwriter is taking place tonight.’ The reporter, wearing a sparkly gown, stood in the cinema lobby speaking into a microphone as a cameraman filmed.

‘With me are screenwriter, Sarah O’Hara, and the film’s director, Hollywood heartthrob, Mateo Ajose. ’

I can’t believe this is really happening, thought Sarah, smiling at the camera. She was wearing a slinky green silk dress with the white scarf her mother had given her as a wedding present draped around her shoulders.

Goldie turned to Mateo. ‘Why did you chose The Ghostwriter for your directorial debut?’ She held out her microphone to him.

‘Firstly, because it’s such a great script,’ replied Mateo, smiling at Sarah. ‘But also because it’s set in the Cotswolds, which is my adopted home.’

Sarah glanced across the lobby, where Mateo’s wife was standing with the Wus.

Iris and Sam were both sporting large baby bumps – their due dates were within weeks of each other.

For the past year, Iris had been teaching art at the high school and Sarah knew Nick would miss her while she was on maternity leave.

‘We had such a lot of fun making this movie. It showcases the best of British independent cinema,’ continued Mateo.

Most of the filming had taken place in and around Plumdale and Stowford.

Sarah had visited the set several times and it couldn’t have been more different to Ex-mas Eve.

The film’s budget had been much smaller, but, unlike Noa, Mateo had fostered a relaxed and collaborative atmosphere on set.

The only tears shed were those required by the script.

‘And I believe the two of you worked together once before, on Ex-Mas Eve,’ said the reporter.

Sarah and Mateo exchanged knowing glances and nodded diplomatically.

Ex-mas Eve had been a modest box-office hit.

Sarah and James had screened it as one of their film-festival movies last Christmas, and, although it wasn’t likely to stand the test of time, Sarah had enjoyed it.

As for Noa, his reputation had been tarnished so badly within the industry, that the only thing he’d directed recently was a soft-drink advertisement.

‘So what’s the movie about, Sarah?’ asked Goldie.

‘It’s a ghost story that’s also a love story,’ explained Sarah. ‘But mostly it’s about the importance of finding your voice.’

Over the past two years, encouraged by her friends and family, Sarah had definitely found her own voice.

In addition to The Ghostwriter, she’d finished two other screenplays – one of which had been optioned by a Hollywood production company.

Nicole Kidman had even been mentioned as a potential star.

‘And I hear there’s another British director making their debut tonight,’ said the reporter.

‘That’s right,’ replied Sarah, nodding. ‘We’re showing a short film by a talented young filmmaker named Aaron Armstrong.’

Aaron, who was now studying film in London, had made the short as part of his course. He’d cast Holly as the lead, with Ian, Hermione and various other local residents playing supporting roles. He’d even convinced Geraldine to make her acting debut!

‘One last question for Mateo – are the rumours you’ll be the next James Bond true?’ asked Goldie.

In his tux, Mateo certainly looked the part already.

He smiled mysteriously. ‘You’d have to ask my agent.’ Pari, who was standing just out of shot, winked at him.

When the interview was over, she came over and gave Sarah a hug. ‘My favourite client – and this time I really mean it.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’ Sarah knew how lucky she was to have Pari in her corner. Her best friend had been encouraging her to write ever since they’d worked together at the BBC.

As Pari chatted with Mateo, Sarah headed across the lobby to find her family and friends, who were waiting for her in the café area.

“Hello, beautiful. You look like you should be starring in the movie,” said James, handing her a glass of champagne.

Sarah adjusted his bowtie and gave him a kiss. ‘You look very handsome too.’

‘People are saying that the Cotswolds are the new Hollywood,’ said James.

Sarah sipped her champagne and chuckled. ‘I’m not sure I’d go that far.’

“Well, I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s a rumour going round that they’re adding quinoa to the menu at the Fox and Hounds,” teased James.

Sarah didn’t want Plumdale to become like Hollywood – it was perfect just how it was. She’d flown out to LA with Pari to meet various producers, but had been happy to return home. This was where she belonged, surrounded by her loved ones.

Sarah gestured at the walls of the café where framed illustrations were on display. ‘Nick’s artwork looks wonderful.’

Under Iris’s guidance, their son had experimented with new styles of illustration. Iris had encouraging him to think about applying to art college after finishing high school.

Nick, who was sneaking sips of champagne with Aaron and Julia, was now nearly as tall as his dad, with a hint of wispy facial hair above his lip. Nick and Julia had collaborated on several more volumes of their manga, which Nora and Simon stocked at their bookshop.

‘We’ve sold out of your latest volume,’ Simon told Nick.

‘Our customers keep asking us when the next one will be out,’ said Nora.

Nick held up his ink-stained fingers. ‘We’re working on it.’ He and Julia were saving the money they earned in hopes of travelling to Japan together one day.

Geraldine came over to Sarah and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, darling. I always knew you had it in you – although you sure took your time.’

Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

At a nearby table, Holly was perched on Aaron’s lap, chatting to her co-stars, Hermione and Ian. Holly had raided Sarah’s wardrobe and was wearing the cheongsam she’d bought in Hong Kong years ago. Sarah didn’t mind – it fit her daughter’s willowy figure perfectly.

‘I’m not the only one who deserves congratulations,’ Sarah told her mother. ‘Holly has some happy news too.’

‘No!’ cried Geraldine. ‘You’re only eighteen! That’s far too young to get married, Holly. Have I told you about the Mosuo tribe—’

‘Chill, Grandma.’ Holly laughed. ‘We’re not getting married. I got offered a place at RADA.’

Everyone laughed as Geraldine gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, then went over to hug her granddaughter.

Sarah wouldn’t be surprised if Holly and Aaron did end up getting married one day.

Any qualms she’d had about her daughter’s relationship had long been forgotten.

Their love had lasted even after Aaron had gone to university, and having a boyfriend hadn’t distracted Holly from pursuing her own dreams. She’d gone through several rounds of gruelling auditions to secure her drama-school place.

‘Well, Holly might not be getting married …’ said Hermione coyly, holding out her left hand, where a vintage diamond ring sparkled on her finger. ‘But I am – Ian proposed!’

Everyone cheered and crowded around to congratulate the happy couple.

Sarah wasn’t surprised; they’d been joined at the hip ever since filming Ex-mas Eve together.

A few months earlier, they’d merged their shops and opened Cotswolds Interiors, selling antique furniture and home decor.

It had been featured in the Sunday Times magazine, illustrated with a glamorous spread of Hermione lounging on a divan.

‘We’re getting married at Merricourt Manor in the spring,’ announced Ian. ‘And you’re all invited.’

Sarah leaned her head against James’s shoulder, remembering their own wedding day. ‘That’s where we got married.’

Geraldine groaned. ‘Oh, God. Don’t remind me – that was not my finest hour. I had too much to drink and started a fight on the dance floor.’

‘I bet you won,’ teased Olwyn.

Everyone chuckled.

‘Plumdale is certainly a lot more fun now that you live here, Geraldine,’ said Pam.

‘Hear, hear,’ agreed Vi.

Geraldine had thrived at Valley Vistas, just as Sarah had hoped she would.

Her mum was always organising talks and excursions.

She and her friends had just come back from a volunteering trip to Calais, to help out at the refugee centre.

Afterwards, they’d all stayed at Roger’s house in Honfleur, sampling local wines and visiting art galleries.

Roger, who now walked with a cane, was peering at the young woman opening the auditorium doors. ‘Who’s that,’ he asked suspiciously.

‘That’s Annabelle,’ explained James. ‘She’s our new assistant manager.’

They had hired Annabelle to help run the cinema and free up Sarah’s time for writing.

‘I’ll be keeping a close eye on the picture,’ warned Roger. ‘I’ll let you know if anything seems off.’

‘I would expect nothing less,’ said James, patting him on the shoulder.

As everyone started filing into the auditorium to watch the movies, Sarah hesitated.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ asked James. ‘This is your big night.’

‘There’s just one thing I need to—’

James took a box of Maltesers out of his tuxedo jacket and shook it, making the malted chocolate balls inside rattle. He grinned at Sarah. ‘Don’t worry – I came prepared.’

Sarah gave him a kiss. ‘You are the best husband in the world.’ She’d be willing to bet he also had a hankie in his pocket, for when she inevitably shed tears at The Ghostwriter’s happy ending.

Together, they went inside their cinema and took their seats, flanked by Holly and Nick.

As the lights dimmed and the curtains opened to reveal the screen, Sarah reached for James’s hand.

Because even after all the years they’d been together, there was still no one in the world she would rather watch a movie with than him.